A Declaration Under God
by Mrs. A. Hamilton
Summary: NEW AND IMPROVED! Angels and Demons struggle amidst the unperceiving eyes of mortals, as they fight to gain a stronghold during our revolution! READ AND REVIEW! PLEASE!


**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews everyone! Frankly, they're inspiring (I know, that's sad). I reposted, like I promised; there's really just more words, and hopefully, for your sake, more action. As you well know, I do not own the Bible, and I certainly don't own history. Please enjoy, and I would appreciate detailed feedback. Thanks!

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His large, calloused hands nervously fidgeted the grimy note; his blue-grey eyes shifted eagerly back and forth across the elegant script, brightened with excitement. So the rumours proved true, the tall, robust general realized. With the uncertain fate of the war, the news had not come a moment to soon.

Unbeknownst to the valiant Virginian, a massive canopy of light spread over him, and its amber-eyed bearer, sparkling in his fullest splendor, peered gently over the general's broad shoulders. The celestial being smiled with unrestrained delight.

A slow, but determined sigh escaped from his ward's lips, and General George Washington lifted his eyes to the heavens.

_The fate of unborn millions will now depend, under God, on the courage and conduct of this army!_

(------------------------)

Joyful cheers of victory were abruptly halted by the crackling sound of alarm guns firing in New York. A tumult of shrieks and shouts immediately ensued, as soldiers ran through the streets crowded with panic-stricken people to attain their posts.

'Captain!' a fearful Irishman called to his violet-blue-eyed superior at Fort George. 'They're here!'

_They're here!_ The cry echoed throughout New York, and all of the mustered patriotism could not prevent the growing reality in the soldiers' brave hearts that the American forces were outnumbered and possibly doomed.

With the fiery sun shining down upon them, the world's grandest naval power bore down on southern Manhattan, a forest of masts and sails gliding upon the glittering sea. Thousands of redcoats disembarked on Staten Island, while Continental Army soldiers stared in awestruck terror from the wharves and rooftops, as the massive and stately vessels gathered into the harbor. 'All of London must be afloat,' a youth whispered.

Kael's glowing amber eyes followed two demon-infested British battleships and a few tenders sailing swiftly up the harbor. '_Rose_ and _Phoenix_ are heading towards Tarrytown,' he said quietly.

'Are we going to intervene, General?' Rafael queried, his sea-grey eyes bright with anticipation.

The chief prince shook his head. 'Not this time. For now, we must keep our two targets unharmed. Their encounter with one another is of primary importance to the future of this new republic.' Kael placed his strong hand upon Rafael's armored shoulder. 'The captain of Fort George will be your charge. Take a group to guard him.' He turned to a golden-haired archangel. 'Gabriel, let us know when the location is prepared. I'll see to it that the General arrives on time.'

The Heavenly Host had hardly raised their brilliant wings for flight when a resounding boom reverberated from cannons up north.

'Quickly!' the reddish-gold-haired General called. 'There's no time to lose!'

(------------------------)

Cannons from Red Hook and Governor's Island opened fire, desperately attempting to deter the approaching enemy ships. Dumbfounded by the unobstructed view of the oncoming _Phoenix_ and _Rose_, the Irishman Hercules Mulligan and other artillery men stopped preparation of their cannons.

Fort George was perfectly placed in the line of British fire.

The captain perceived the situation as well. 'They're only minutes away,' he said, his piercing gaze never leaving the imposing vessels. 'Finish readying the cannons.'

The battleships swept past the peppering guns of lower Manhattan, sailing into the mouth of the Hudson, unscathed and unconquerable. Shouts from opening shore batteries filled the air, followed by a thunderous barrage of guns and cannons.

'Fire!' the nineteen-year-old captain cried above the din. The cannons responded with a booming roar, striking a pinnace and penetrating one of the _Rose's_ sails.

Undaunted, the ships returned fire, sending whistling cannonballs crashing into rooftops and streets still swarming with civilians. Agonized screams and crazed cries filled the air as women and children frantically sought shelter from the deafening din of the ferocious shelling. The New York artillery stood gawking at the water's edge, terrified by the unrelenting and ruthless bombardment of this seemingly indomitable enemy.

'Mulligan!' the captain called to his Irish friend. 'Pull those men together! Prepare for the next—!'

The young captain never finished his command. Suddenly, he found himself lying on the ground, and a black blur whizzed over his head, shattering the brick wall behind him.

Rafael waited for the last brick to crumble to the ground before he lifted himself from his slender charge. The cannonball was not the sole force which threatened the captain's life, the archangel sensed, warily eyeing the black projectile's landing area. He helped his dazed ward to his feet, his sea-grey eyes never leaving the chalky cloud of debris

A tall silhouette finally emerged from the settling dust, the expansive leathery wings unfolding to reveal a massive monstrosity.

'Asmodeus,' Rafael breathed, his glittering wings expanding defensively.

The demon bowed with mocking respect. 'Good evening, my prince,' Asmodeus said, his hideous grin revealing glistening fangs. His gaze fell upon the archangel's thin-shouldered charge. 'I see Alexander Hamilton has once again survived a near-death experience—thanks to you, of course.' The demon's ruby-red eyes narrowed as he slowly unsheathed his crimson sabre and paused to admire its gleam. 'But I'm afraid he won't survive the next one.'

With an angry hiss, Asmodeus swooped down upon his celestial opponent and brought his blade crashing into the archangel's brilliant weapon, casting off a shower of red and white sparks. Rafael's knee then shot into the demon's torso like a blazing bullet, and with another sharp kick, he sent Asmodeus flying into the pile of bricks from whence he came.

'Captain!' a worried voice called suddenly. The archangel glanced behind him to see Mulligan and several other soldiers rush to aid their superior. But some of these artillery men did not come unaccompanied. Monstrous spirits clung to their various victims, talons dug deep into their heads and throats, causing some of their prey to wobble slightly. Even Rafael's host of angels couldn't pry the demons loose, their skirmishes consisting of a constant clinging and clanging of clashing blades.

He heard a hiss, and all at once, a rush of pain coursed through the archangel's spine and torso as he was forcefully flattened to the ground, Asmodeus cackling above him, fanged teeth bared. Rafael hardly lifted his blade in time to parry a powerful blow; a second strike knocked the weapon from the archangel's grasp. Undismayed, Rafael struck his flattened palm below the demon's chin, but the hulking spirit returned a vehement head-butt, and the celestial creature finally sagged and fell limp, his teeth clenched in anguish. Asmodeus clutched his throat and placed his crimson weapon threateningly beneath his chin.

'Why do you protect this mortal?' the demon's sibilant voice rasped. 'What purpose will he serve?'

Rafael struggled to breathe. 'He prays.'

A sudden, searing pain pierced the archangel's cheek, as Asmodeus slowly carved his serrated weapon into his captive's countenance and down his throat. The demon licked his fangs lecherously, thrilled by the strangulated moans emanating from the archangel's lips.

'He was spared death seven years ago because he _prays_?' Asmodeus returned, chuckling incredulously. 'You expect me to believe that that is his sole reason for existence, Rafael?'

Captain Hamilton's melodious voice suddenly rang out, ordering a preparation of the next round. Both unearthly beings abruptly halted their skirmish and stared after the demon-infested artillery men staggering towards the cannon, while assailing angels were effortlessly flung aside. To Rafael's horror, the soldiers never stopped to swab out the sparks and gunpowder; they headed directly for the nearest cannonball.

Fortunately, the captain noticed the fatal error as well. Breaking away from Mulligan's supportive hold, the violet-blue-eyed youth rushed towards the cannon.

'Stop!' he cried, waving his arms wildly about. 'Stop the load!'


End file.
